#i was… so utterly wrong. i was so so utterly wrong
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i. imgonnagetyouback
The one and only son of the Gojo clan had fallen quite hard, completely and utterly, to a lowly woman who came from the dirt, and got his heart broken by her. Years had passed, he was still as angry since the day you left, but he only wanted you back.
contents. modern au, gojo satoru x reader, angst, not proofread.
Whether I'm gonna curse you out or take you back to my house, I haven't decided yet but I'm gonna get you back
next chapter
It was pathetic. The sight of Gojo Satoru, a well-respected son of the Gojo clan, was down on his knees right in front of you, begging you to stay, a daughter of a mere servant.
It made him look pitiful and weak, a miserable prince who had his heart shattered by a low class woman like you. But he didn't really give it that much of a thought, ever since he first laid eyes on you. He didn't care what people might've said from the very first time, and he proved it to you a million times as he stubbornly and desperately showed you how much he loves and adores you. So, begging down on his knees is not that much of a deal now, no?
“Stand up, please.”
But you were firm, closing your eyes as you let out a shaky breath. You hated seeing him like this, but you were left with no other choice. Your love for him could risk even the dangers of your life, and you were sacrificing him to save him.
“I do not wish to be with you any longer, Young Master.” You said, uttering his title in a whisper. “What we had was wrong. It was a mistake on my side. And I thought I was in love with you, but it was just a pathetic infatuation and I realised that another man best suits me, and it's not you.”
Your words were nonstop, every single thing that you uttered was shattering his heart into pieces. But Satoru furiously shakes his head, his hands trembling on your lap as his forehead falls on your knees.
“T-that’s not… T-that's not true…”
You remembered everything from that day. Every little detail, every word, every touch, every action, of what had happened stayed forever in your mind. It never fails to shatter you. To make you cry every single time that you thought about him as you lie in the confinements of your small room.
“I have done what you asked for. What else do I need to do–” A whimper escaped your lips as a hand flew over your cheek. Breathing heavily, you felt the sting on your skin as you looked back at the person who had been the cause of your pain.
“Pack your things, and never show your face again.”
Gojo Satoru haunted your dreams and nightmares. He managed his way in your heart, and refused to leave. He was the ghost of your tragic love story, you could only wish that you never should've picked up the pen. It's already been two years since you left, and even until now, your heart only beats for one man and it will always be for Satoru.
So what are you going to do when he comes up at your door, claiming what used to be his?
It all happened so fast that your head can't fathom how you ended back to the place of your nightmares. The Gojo clan's mansion. The place where it all started between the two of you.
Every corner of this place was filled with memories of you and Satoru, all the good and bad. But what you remembered most was the torture, the consequences you had faced for falling in love. You felt like all your scars were slowly tearing apart, opening the wound that was almost healed as you looked back to the man who stood in front of you.
You never should've been back in this place.
“I expect you to work immediately.” Satoru's voice was different. It was laced with authority and demand, not the sweet ones that you remember back when he was yours. “Remember, your family is in the palm of my hands. Try to escape, and you'll face the consequences.”
His eyes looked at you with anger, a pent up emotion that he bottled up all these years. His hands were balled on a fist by his sides, almost trembling, but he wouldn't let you see just how much you still have an effect on him.
Right now, all he feels is anger and hatred for what you did. For leaving him. For running off with another man. For loving him only to break his heart. For letting him hold on to your empty promises.
For those two years, he only loathed you and he's not going to be a forgiving man, he'll make sure you regret. He'll make you beg on his knees, the way he did for you.
“I expect you to be in my office in five.”
Now, you're back to square one. Working as his maid was already bad enough back then, so what's going to happen now that you're back to serve him again?
You can't help but notice how much he changed. Somehow, you can tell that he was still the same, only that he was only mad at you. It was obvious already how he's showing indifference only to you but not to anyone else. His bubbly personality that used to welcome you with warm embraces is now replaced with an angry demeanour of a man who cold-heartedly took you away from your family and took you back to the house where you suffered.
How unfair.
This was not your Satoru.
As soon as Satoru turned around and left you standing, he heaved out a breath that he didn't know he was holding. His heart felt like it was trying to escape from his chest. For the first time since you left, he finally felt his heart beating again.
All throughout those years that you were gone, he relentlessly looked for you. Trying to search your face in unfamiliar places, sometimes getting himself into trouble when he mistakes someone for you. Everyday, he was turning angrier and angrier when you never showed up, while all he needed was proper answers and explanations. He hated all the memory that you had left, and how it tore him to pieces that all of it was just a lie.
He couldn't believe you had the nerve. A woman like you with no name for herself, telling him that a relationship with him was just a mistake as you sought another man. Gojo Satoru was everything anyone could have asked for, so how dare a woman like you? How dare a woman he loved…
Everything comes crashing down into his mind once again. From the first time he saw you and how you've caught his eye. His heart starts to beat frantically, his breath caught into his chest, his tongue tied together. Satoru slumps into his chair as he closes his eyes, letting the memory sink in.
“Who is that woman?” Satoru asked an older servant, seeing your unfamiliar face walking around the garden in a maid uniform as he stared down at you from his window.
“That's [M/L/N]’s daughter. She's here to take her place while her mother is recovering.” The servant answered as she poured him tea.
Satoru watched as you walked quietly, your movements looked calculated and careful. He watched your finger touch a ragged cloth, gracefully cleaning the dirty tables.
From afar, he can see how your skin looked soft and pale. You were a bit thin and looked weak. He can only assume that he could break you with one twist.
Your face didn't have any emotion in it which intrigued him. Even your lips were downturned, like you hated every second of working in his place. You caught his attention in a matter of seconds, a curiosity growing inside him while he watched your every move.
He noticed the way your mood changed when his family's dog, a small golden retriever, came running to you. A smile formed into your face and he swore he could feel all the flowers blooming all around the place. Everything seemed to have lighted up, his heart began to drum in his chest as you kneeled down to the dog, petting and rubbing the cute animal between your hands.
What's so fascinating about you?
He swallowed hard. Satoru felt like a teenage boy realising that he was staring a little too hard. He felt like a stalker for watching you, shivering at his thoughts.
But he wanted to meet you. Something was pulling him to be close to your presence. A magnetic force was drawing him to come near, and it was the very first time that he ever felt like this.
But he'll take his time first. For now, he's going to settle on just watching you from afar, memorising every detail of you, until he is ready.
A knock on the door woke Satoru back to his senses. He straightened up on his seat, erasing the memories out of his head as he coughed. “Come in.”
But how can Satoru completely forget?
You walked inside in your maid uniform, the same dress that you used to wear, and it only took Satoru a matter of seconds for all your pasts to remind him of how much he loved you. He felt a pain in his chest, and for a moment, he wanted to fall back on his knees and beg for you to love him again. But even you had changed.
Satoru was also back to square one. He looks at you, reminded of the first time he had seen your face. The lack of emotion, the frown, the gaze that used to intimidate him, and the wall you had built between the two of you was palpable.
“Take a seat.” Satoru gestured over the chair in front of his table.
He watched you carefully as you stepped inside his office, striding forward with a sense of hurry as you obviously refused to seat. You stood in front of him, an emotion in your eyes that he can't seem to read.
“I have to get back to my family–”
“They are fine.” Satoru immediately cut you off, his voice ringing over your ear. He looked at you with a glare, venom laced in his voice as he says, “You are bound to stay here, as I said so–”
“You can't keep me here!”
Your scream shocked the both of you, but Satoru kept a straight face as he stood up slowly. He chuckled with malice, staring at your helpless state.
“What makes you say that I can't?” He smirked. “I own you now. Every single thing that's yours is also mine, even your family.”
Your eyes fell to the floor, your hands trembling at your side. Your knees felt weak underneath his gaze, burning and crushing your soul.
Everything he said was true. You were in so much debt ever since you left the Gojo mansion, your family almost falling apart if he didn't show up to take you. And now he's claiming every single bit of what's yours, not leaving a single piece behind.
Satoru made it clear when he took you here. He'll pay for everything to save you and your family. Your mother's hospital bill, your father's gambling debts, your brother's education, their food, house, electricity, and all their livings, because you couldn't pay them off by yourself.
So now you're trapped. He's got you wrapped around his fingers.
“You need me, Y/N.” You closed your eyes at his voice, shaking your head in denial. “You can't afford to live without me, and that's the truth.”
It was the truth, Satoru taking her away from her old life.
You were doing just fine when he was gone. But now you don't know anymore.
this is the part 1 of my mini (?) gojo series! i hope you'd like it and anticipate for what's next to come 🥺🫶🏻 [M/L/N] also stand for "mother's last name" in case you didn't knowww ^.^ I also hoped you understood the flashbacks and such.
this is just a prologue of the main story, sooo the real story starts at part 2.
#jujutsu kaisen#jjk#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen fluff#gojo satoru#satoru gojo#gojo x reader#jjk gojo#jujutsu satoru#gojou satoru x reader#jjk satoru#satorugojo#gojo fluff#gojo angst#satoru angst#satoru jjk#jjk gojo satoru#jujutsu#jujutsu kaien modern au#jjk modern au#jjk fic#jjk angst#jjk fluff#jujutsu gojo#gojo satoru x reader#gojo satoru x oc#gojo satoru x y/n#gojo satoru angst#Spotify
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10: REVELATIONS
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Sharon Carter, of all people, manages to knock some sense into your favorite super soldier.
Word count 2.8k
Warnings: Sharon Carter and her brutal honesty, Bucky Barnes and his ignorance
Bucky returned from his mission physically unharmed, but his conscience didn’t let him off so easily. Sharon was a great partner, but she wasn’t you. She was very business-like but cold. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust her, but he couldn’t quite open up to her the way he had with you. Bucky wondered if he would ever be able to bare his soul to another human being again. He had given so much of himself to you, was it too much to ask for just a little in return?
Why had you forced him to take just drastic measures? Why did you force him to choose? Why didn’t you love him back? There were days when he could see love in your eyes when you looked at him, but the voice deep inside Bucky that always told him he was undeserving, had him believing that all he saw were his own feelings reflected back at him. He would never have dared to think that you would have been so selfish as to deny him of someone who would love him in return. His thoughts constantly revolved around you, plaguing him long into the night and affecting his sleep.
He couldn’t deny it, he missed you. He felt like a part of himself was missing. Without you by his side, life seemed empty. He reflected on how he didn’t feel that way when he was away from Priya. Perhaps he should, especially after he had confessed his love so publicly to her. Bucky sighed heavily. Had he been too rash? You were always so kind, so selfless, so giving. He would never have entertained the notion that you had nothing to give him for his birthday. Even if he didn’t have your love, he knew he had your friendship. What had gone wrong? You had once told him that all you wanted for him was peace and happiness. Right now he felt neither.
He craved your company, he longed to hear your voice, coveted the warmth of your embrace. But his anger and sense of betrayal had been overwhelming. Why wouldn’t you let him be happy? He couldn’t have you and you wouldn’t let him be happy with someone else. Bucky tightened his grip on the controls of the quinjet.
"Barnes, I got to say, I knew you had a reputation for staring, but I think you’re taking this to a whole new level." Sharon interrupted his thoughts.
"Sorry?" Bucky looked at her with surprise. He had all but forgotten that Sharon was sitting next to him.
"If you grip those controls any tighter, we're going to plummet to our deaths."
"Oh," Bucky released his grip on the handles.
"What's going on with you?"
"What do you mean?"
"You look like you haven't slept in a week."
Bucky shrugged.
"So why isn't Cricket here with you?" Sharon probed, continuing despite Bucky's sullen silence. "I mean she clearly wasn't busy with other things."
"Stark calls the shots, I don't know what he’s thinking." Bucky lied through his teeth, knowing full well that he had requested Steve to assign him a different partner.
"So nothing going on between you two?"
"Nothing going on? What does that mean?"
"Oh come on Barnes, I know you’re ancient, but you can’t be that clueless. Everyone thinks you were sleeping together!"
Bucky’s eyes were practically popping, he was utterly speechless.
"They what?"
"But you have a girlfriend now. Is that why Cricket resigned?"
"SHE WHAT?" The plane jolted slightly
"Watch it, Barnes!" Sharon shrieked.
Bucky straightened up the quinjet before speaking. "Cricket resigned?" he asked, as though he couldn’t quite believe what he had heard.
"You don’t know? Wow, how badly did you fuck her?"
"We didn’t…"
"Oh, so she’s leaving because you wouldn’t fuck her, is that it?"
"Sharon, what the hell is wrong with you?"
"I’m just curious!" she shrugged before prattling on. "I can’t see why else she would be leaving such a great position… unless, did you knock her up?"
"For fuck sake Sharon, nothing happened with me and Cricket. We’re just friends."
"Well maybe it should happen then. The way you two look at each other is sickening."
"You know what, this is the reason no one wants to work with you." Bucky grumbled.
"Because you’re too afraid to hear the truth. I’m just telling it like it is. She looks at you like she wants you to fuck her."
"Sharon, I’m warning you."
"Ooooh, Mr America, Cap’s best friend is warning me! What’re you going to do, spank me?" Sharon replied in a mock sultry tone.
"Shut up, Sharon."
Sharon let out a barking laugh, but said nothing more, leaving Bucky more to think about than before. How dare you resign without telling him? Surely it was something someone discussed with their partner. How does someone dump their partner without so much of a word? The small voice of conscience in his brain, your voice, screamed, ‘didn't you do the same?’ He had requested a new partner on this mission because he was angry. He remembered the look on your face when he had left for this mission. Bucky could tell you had wanted to speak to him, but he hadn’t given you the opportunity. The rational part of his brain told him that you had made many attempts to speak to him.
Bucky's mind was a whirlwind of emotions as he tried to process everything that had just been thrown at him. Sharon's words echoed in his head, taunting him with the possibility that maybe he had missed something between him and you. Had he been blind to your feelings all this time? Had he been so consumed by his own insecurities and doubts that he had failed to see what was right in front of him?
He couldn't shake the feeling of regret that washed over him. Regret for not being more attentive to you, regret for not being more open with you, regret for not realizing sooner that maybe, just maybe, you had feelings for him too. The thought of you resigning because of him made his heart ache with guilt. How could he have been so blind?
Bucky's thoughts raced as he tried to make sense of everything. He couldn't deny the fact that he missed you, that he longed for your presence, that he yearned for the connection he had with you. Sharon's words had struck a nerve, awakening a realization within him that maybe, just maybe, he had let something special slip through his fingers.
As the quinjet continued on its course, Bucky's mind was consumed with thoughts of you. He couldn't shake the feeling that he had made a mistake, that he had let his own fears and insecurities cloud his judgment. He couldn't bear the thought of losing you, of losing the one person who had always been there for him, who had always believed in him, who had always seen the good in him.
Bucky knew he had to make things right, that he had to find a way to reach out to you, to apologize for his blindness, to make amends for his mistakes. He couldn't let you slip away without a fight, without at least trying to salvage what was left of the bond between you.
As the quinjet landed, Bucky's resolve hardened. He knew what he had to do. He had to find you, he had to talk to you! With a determined look in his eyes, Bucky stepped out of the quinjet, ready to face whatever challenges lay ahead in his quest to win back the one person who had always held his heart.
"Buck," Steve put his hand out to stop Bucky marching off as soon as they disembarked from the plane. "Where're you going? We need to debrief."
"It can wait." Bucky shook off Steve's arm.
"Bucky, this is important."
"I don't care, Steve." He shouted over his shoulder as he made his way towards the compound's living quarters.
Sharon stopped beside Steve. "He's got it bad."
"What happened, Sharon?"
"He realized he's an idiot."
Steve frowned at her.
"Cricket." Sharon rolled her eyes. "Are all of you clueless?"
"Sharon, Cricket isn't here."
"Well, someone's going to have to tell him that."
Steve sighed. "I guess we could reconvene in an hour or two."
"Great, I’m off to take a shower!" Sharon waved at Steve and wandered off.
Meanwhile, Bucky had started sprinting towards your rooms, practically knocking over a couple of new agents who had been getting a tour around the compound. He arrived on the floor where your rooms were situated feeling out of breath and extremely nervous. He had no idea what he was going to say, having not quite thought things through. Frowning slightly when he noticed that your door was slightly ajar, he skidded to a halt. You had to be inside, you often left your door open. You always said ‘everyone was welcome’. Your warmth extended to everyone you met, every single member of the team opened up to you, confiding their secrets. You had such a beautiful openness about you, it was so easy for anyone to fall in love with you, even a broken centenarian with a cantankerous demeanor and suffered from post traumatic stress.
Bucky took a deep breath, he still didn’t have the right words in mind, but he knew he wanted to see you, just a glimpse of your smiling face. He hadn’t seen it in a while, and he knew he was the cause. He had been so angry about his own choices, blaming you for having to make them, that he hadn’t stopped to think about how they affected you. For someone who claimed to love you, he had been incredibly selfish. It was almost an epiphany to Bucky, finally dawning on him that he had forced you to adapt to his choices rather than discussing them with you. He was the one who was too cowardly to share his true feelings for fear of losing you, and his behavior had led to him losing you anyway.
Softly, he knocked on your door, which swung open slowly. The sight before Bucky almost broke his heart. Your room was empty, all the things that bore your unique signature were stripped away. He stumbled inside still breathing heavily. What had he done?
"Cricket!" he called out loudly at first, as though you were hiding behind the remaining furniture, before whispering desperately. "Cricket."
Bucky collapsed on your bed, turning to the toy white wolf you’d left on your pillow. A white wolf, that was his moniker. He remembered seeing you choosing it at Coney Island and had been so blinded by jealousy that he hadn’t noticed your choice. You had always chosen him, systematically and consistently put your faith in him, given him your unwavering trust. Why had he been so quick to dismiss you on his birthday? Why hadn’t he returned your trust? He clutched the plush toy against his chest, burying his face in the fur and breathing in deeply, it smelled of you. He knew you had held it just as he was doing now. He wished it was you that he was holding, oh to be able to bury his face in your hair. He missed how you stroked the back of his neck when you comforted him.
Finally Bucky took his nose out of the small wolf and looked around with tear stained eyes. They landed on the thin, still wrapped vinyl record on your bedside table. The beautifully printed card was carefully taped to the edge. He ran his fingers over the flowery card with his name stenciled across the front, he could tell you'd made it yourself. He slipped his finger in the gap where the wrapping paper met and opened it with ease, unveiling the first edition Glenn Miller album which had been produced back in the 40’s. Bucky sniffed as he ran his fingers over the record before picking up the card to read your message.
"Dear Bucky." He could hear your voice in his head as he read your words.
"Happy birthday to my best friend! I hope this day brings you all the joy and happiness that you deserve. I wanted to take this opportunity to remind you of the love that surrounds you, both from your past and present.
"I know how much your family meant to you and how much you miss them every day. That's why I got you this Glenn Miller vinyl, the last song you danced to with them. I hope that when you listen to it, it reminds you of the love that they gave you and the memories you shared together.
"But I also want you to remember that you are not alone. You have friends who care about you deeply, who are here for you no matter what. We may not be your blood family, but we are your chosen family, and we love you just as much.
"So on this special day, I want you to know that you are loved, Bucky. You are cherished, you are valued, and you are important. And I hope that as you listen to that vinyl, you feel the warmth of the love that surrounds you, both from your past and present.
"And may you always remember that you are not alone, that there is someone out there who cares for you more than you could ever know.
"With all my love, Cricket."
He couldn’t believe the depth of your love and care for him. How could he have been so blind to it all this time? How could he have pushed you away when all you wanted to do was show him love and support? Bucky felt a wave of regret wash over him, realizing the mistake he had made in letting you go.
He sat there on your bed, clutching the record and card to his chest, tears streaming down his face. He had never felt so lost and alone, knowing that he had driven away the one person who had always been there for him. The weight of his actions weighed heavily on his heart, and he knew he had to make things right.
"Buck?" Steve’s voice broke through Bucky’s maelstrom of guilt and self flagellation, making him look up at his oldest friend. Steve sat down beside him, putting a comforting hand on Bucky’s shoulder. "Look, you have time to fix this. Do you have any idea how much Cricket loves you? She's always been there for you, and you just pushed her away without even giving her a chance to explain," Steve said sternly.
Bucky nodded, wiping away his tears. "I know, Steve. I messed up big time. I was just so scared of ruining our friendship if I told her how I really felt."
"Well, now’s your chance to make things right. Apologize to Cricket and tell her the truth. She deserves to know how you feel," Steve urged.
"What… what am I going to do about Priya?"
"Tell her the truth."
"I don't want to hurt her."
"Bucky, you can't keep living a lie just to spare someone's feelings. It's not fair to either of them. You need to be honest with yourself and with them. It may be difficult, but it's the right thing to do."
Bucky took a deep breath, nodding in agreement. He knew what he had to do. He had to apologize to you and tell you how he truly felt. He couldn't let fear hold him back any longer.
He stood up, determination in his eyes. "Thanks, Steve."
Steve gave him a reassuring smile. "I believe in you, Bucky. You can do this."
There was something about the way Steve spoke, he had a way of inspiring people. Bucky had seen that since they were kids. He couldn’t think of any other reason as to why he would have followed the scrawny kid from Brooklyn down every dark alley. He was grateful for Steve’s unwavering friendship and the honesty in his opinions. "Did she tell you how she felt?" Bucky asked. "Why didn’t you tell me?"
"Buck, it’s not my place to talk to someone else about their feelings."
"You don’t think it’s too late, is it?"
"You won't know until you try."
Steve's words didn't instill hope, but he was right, all Bucky could do now was try his best.
"Do you-" Steve stopped as his phone vibrated. He pulled it out to see a message from you flashing up. "Hang on, it's Cricket."
"What did she say?"
Steve frowned, you never sent voice messages. You always said you hated the sound of your voice. He pressed play apprehensively.
"STEVE!" Your voice was loud and urgent over the speaker. "Alien attack! Vrellnexian! Need back up! Red Oaks Mill. Back up would be- shit" They caught your muffled curse before the message stopped.
Steve and Bucky took one look at each other and leapt up off your bed, running towards the door.
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#bucky barnes#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes x you#bucky barnes x female reader#bucky barnes x f!reader#bucky barnes imagine#bucky barnes fan fiction#my best friend's girl
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study session // akaashi keiji
tw ⇢ mutual pining, making out, soft sex, nipple play, fingering, cunnilingus, unprotected sex, getting caught(?), bokuto being bokuto
wc ⇢ 5.9k
The deadbolt thunked softly as Akaashi twisted his key, shoulders sagging with fatigue after another marathon day of editing. He toed off his loafers, inhaling the familiar blend of books and bergamot that enveloped the apartment he shared with his roommate - you, Bokuto's younger sister.
A muffled sniffle drifted from down the hall, immediately snapping Akaashi's focus into sharp awareness. Frowning slightly, he followed the sound toward your bedroom. The door was ajar, spilling a thin blade of light across the hardwood.
Akaashi hesitated with his knuckles hovering outside the door frame, another watery hiccup reaching his ears. Quietly, he rapped his knuckles against the wood.
"Y/N, are you alright?" he called out gently.
A tremulous inhale, then your voice filtered through, think and wavering. "A-Akaashi? Y-Yeah, I'm...I'm okay."
But the attempt at false bravery was betrayed by the slight quaver marring your tone. Akaashi's brow furrowed in sincere concern, fingers already grasping the door handle.
"May I come in?"
A pause, then a resigned sigh. "Okay..."
He pushed the door open slowly to find you hunched over your desk, shoulders trembling and face streaked with tears. Textbooks and notepads were strewn haphazardly, evidence of the chaotic state of your studies. Akaashi felt a pang in his chest at the rare sight of your usual sunny disposition so distraught and overwhelmed.
"Oh Y/N..." He crossed the room in three strides, circling around to crouch beside you. "What's wrong? Talk to me."
You swiped the sleeve of your sweatshirt uselessly across your damp cheeks, exhaling a ragged breath. "It's just...there's so much material to review for midterms and I'm f-falling behind. I've been studying nonstop but nothing is sticking and I'm so stressed out..."
The dam of frustration you'd been holding back finally burst as your voice hitched dangerously on those last words. Akaashi watched, utterly helpless, as you dissolved into fresh sobs muffled behind your palms.
For a moment, he wavered, unsure of the proper decorum to provide comfort without overstepping boundaries. But the sight of your dejected hunched form overwhelmed any hesitation. Tenderly, he reached out to pull you into his embrace, tucking your face into the reassuring warmth of his chest.
You immediately melted against him, tremors wracking your frame as the tears soaked through the soft cotton of his dress shirt. Akaashi just held you close, cheek pillowed atop your crown as he murmured soothing reassurances.
"It's okay, just breathe...you've got this..."
In that dimly-lit sanctuary of your bedroom, he allowed himself to admit the truth simmering beneath his concern - the soft cadence of your breath fanning across his collarbone, the pliant weight of you cradled against his chest...it all felt so intrinsically right. As if you belonged sheltered in his arms.
The realization should have startled Akaashi more than it did. Yet, somehow his heart had already accepted the quiet inevitability of the tenderness blooming between you two over years of being roommates.
Eventually, your hitched breathing began to even out, arms tentatively circling his waist as you reigned in your spiked emotions. When at last you pulled back, Akaashi was gutted by your reddened eyes and wan expression - outer signs of the immense strain you were enduring.
"God, I'm so sorry..." you mumbled, avoiding his gaze self-consciously. "You must think I'm an over-emotional wreck."
"Not at all," he replied, cupping your cheek with one palm to tilt your face back toward him. "You've been pushing yourself incredibly hard. It's only natural the stress would eventually need an outlet."
Akaashi held your wavering stare, silently willing you to grasp his understanding, his concern, the unacknowledged tenderness reflecting behind his carefully composed exterior. Finally, you managed a watery semblance of your usual vibrant smile - a flicker of your indomitable spirit that never failed to stir his heart.
"Thank you, Akaashi. I don't know what I'd do without your steadying presence when I'm a mess like this."
"Anytime," he murmured, the words carrying more weight than he perhaps intended. Clearing his throat, he sat back on his heels. "Now...why don't you take a short break, splash some water on your face? Then come find me in the living room. I'll help you go over whatever topics are tripping you up."
Your eyes widened fractionally at his offer of studying together, then crinkled with renewed determination and gratitude. "Really? You don't mind? God, that would be incredible..."
"Of course not. We'll tackle this together." Akaashi rose fluidly to his feet. "I'll put on a pot of tea for us."
As he retreated into the hallway, he couldn't deny the faint fluttering warmth that blossomed in his chest. Though he assisted you frequently with your coursework, there was an unusual anticipation thrumming beneath his skin now. Perhaps amplified by those tender, unfurling moments of connection in your bedroom.
He allowed himself a fleeting smile, letting the cozy atmosphere of your shared apartment enfold him as he busied himself preparing the tea tray. Yes, something had definitively shifted between you two tonight. And Akaashi found himself unexpectedly eager to embrace whatever this newintimacy ushered in.
The gentle rattling of ceramic cups and quiet brewing of the electric kettle provided a soothing soundtrack as Akaashi arranged the tea tray. He inhaled the grounding aroma of bergamot and lemon, mentally preparing himself to tackle your studies with the same care he devoted to his editorial work.
Just as he finished setting out the teacups, you padded into the living room - face scrubbed clean and radiant smile tentatively resurfacing. Akaashi felt his chest constrict at how achingly tender and vulnerable you appeared, swathed in an over-sized university hoodie. He had to resist the sudden impulse to pull you back into his arms.
"Hey, all set whenever you are," you murmured, rubbing the dampness from your cheeks. You settled cross-legged on the floor, back resting against the sofa as you gathered your notes and textbooks onto the coffee table.
Akaashi poured the fragrant tea, sliding one steaming cup towards you before joining on the floor opposite. You offered him a grateful look over the rim as you sipped carefully, face visibly relaxing as the warmth seeped into you.
"Okay," he prompted in that low, soft timbre of his. "Where should we start?"
You worried your bottom lip - an endearing quirk he'd noticed you did when concentrating hard. "Umm...organic chemistry has been really kicking my ass lately. If we could go over some of the molecular structure concepts?"
Nodding, Akaashi reached for your notebook, allowing your shoulders to brush in the process. A shiver rippled through you that had nothing to do with the temperature. He pretended not to notice, keeping his focus trained on the page as he scanned your scattered notations with a practiced editorial eye.
"I can see where you're getting tripped up on the hybridization models..." he mused, fingers unconsciously smoothing the rumpled pages with a delicate touch.
With that same deft cadence he used to break down complex manga narratives and storyboards, Akaashi began illuminating the organic chemistry topics that were giving you trouble. You quickly became absorbed in his low, authoritative explanations - leaning incrementally closer until your knees knocked together every time you shifted position.
Akaashi's mouth went dry whenever your raptured gaze lifted to his, those expressive eyes drinking in each new nuance he highlighted. He couldn't resist the temptation to reach out, large palms engulfing your smaller hands to guide them through the molecular diagram you were struggling with.
You seemed to shudder bodily at the contact, but didn't pull away. If anything, you gravitated infinitesimally nearer to his orbit until the earthy sandalwood scent of his cologne enveloped you completely.
For his part, Akaashi felt utterly transfixed dissecting the intricacies of organic chemistry with you. Long minutes blurred into hours, marked only by the occasional rasp of your pencil scratching out new understandings and quiet stretch of reaching for your rapidly cooling tea.
A heady sort of intimacy had descended over the hushed apartment - suspended in a gossamer pocket of time where only the two of you existed. Even when a shrill trill from your phone interrupted, shattering the weighted quiet, neither of you startled apart.
"Shit, it's Kou checking in..." you murmured vaguely, swiping to silence the incessant buzzing without sparing the screen a glance.
A tiny furrow appeared between Akaashi's brows, unable to fully mask the fleeting pang of disappointment. Of course Bokuto would want to catch up with his baby sister. He tamped down whatever misguided sentiments had begun flickering to life and refocused on the present lesson.
A new cadence emerged over the ensuing weeks - you and Akaashi settling into a ritual of late-night cram sessions in the living room after he returned from the office. What had begun as his kind offer of a studious assist gradually deepened into something richer, more intimate. Textbooks became the pretense, while conversations about Akaashi's editorial work for up-and-coming mangaka and your academic ambitions flowed more organically.
He savored those hushed interludes, coveting each fresh glimpse into your spirit and psyche that you shyly unveiled over mugs of bergamot tea and pages. You seemed to come alive at night, unfurling from your usual subdued daytime presence into an incandescent force as radiant as your legendary brother.
On nights when Bokuto himself burst into the apartment unannounced for a visit, his raucous presence felt strangely...diminishing. Like an intrusion upon the rarefied bubble of connection you and Akaashi had begun delicately cultivating, no matter how inadvertent.
"Hey hey hey!!!" The boisterous owl'd screech, sweeping his baby sister up in his signature crushing embrace much to her squealing protests. "There're my two favorite roomies!!"
For the span of those chaotic visits, you and Akaashi became spectators in your own apartment - observing from the periphery as Bokuto dominated the space with his overwhelming charm and delirious anecdotes. Invariably, you would share a look with Akaashi from across the room - shining with a sort of knowing affection and silent promise to reconvene your quieter interlude once the whirlwind subsided.
Bokuto remained blissfully oblivious to the undercurrent shifting between you, of course. But with each passing day, each fitful study session that bled into the wee hours, Akaashi felt himself falling deeper under the spell of your steady warmth and lighthearted presence.
The selfish part of him began hoarding those sacrosanct one-on-one moments, savoring the intimacy of being the one to share in your blossoming self-discoveries, your academic passions, all crowned by the coquettish smiles and sparkling glances you bestowed upon him alone.
He had become addicted to basking in the rosy glow of your affection on sleepy afternoons when you'd emerge from your bedroom after sleeping late, tousled hair haloing your face. Akaashi routinely lost his train of thought watching you shuffle around the apartment preparing tea and toast, rumpled and soft and utterly resplendent in his eyes.
It was during those tranquil respites between lessons that the reality of his deepening feelings became unavoidable, even to Akaashi's own practiced aloofness. You had worked your way under his skin, into his veins, until his every waking moment centered upon your orbit. With each night that blurred into dawning tenderness, he felt himself teetering perilously towards falling utterly, hopelessly in love.
The soft patter of rain against the windowpanes provided a soothing ambient soundtrack as you pored over your psychology textbook. Akaashi sat beside you on the couch, leg brushing yours as he leaned in to examine the passage you were struggling to grasp.
"So the key difference between the Psychoanalytic and Behaviorist models is..." His low, modulated timbre washed over you as he began breaking down the nuances.
You bit your lip, nodding along while trying to concentrate despite the incredible proximity of his body heat and intoxicating sandalwood cologne. Akaashi's attentive gaze flickered between you and the text, entirely focused on elucidating the intricate psychological concepts until comprehension finally sparked behind your eyes.
"Ohhh, I think I'm getting it now..." you murmured, scribbling a few shorthand notes in the margin. "The Psychoanalytic looks at the deeper underlying motivations like Freudian psyche stuff, whereas Behaviorist is all about external conditioning and reinforcement?"
Akaashi's lips curved into a pleased smile - warm approval crinkling the corners of his steel-grey eyes. "Exactly. You've got a keen understanding."
You basked in the subtle praise, preening slightly under his undivided attention. An unexpected crack of thunder punctuated the moment, making you jump. Akaashi steadied you with a light touch on your shoulder, fingers lingering perhaps a beat too long.
"Perhaps we should take a break?" he suggested, eyes crinkling fondly at your startled reaction. "My brain could use a reprieve from the academic intensity."
"Oh? Did you have something else in mind?" You arched a brow teasingly.
The longer you pursued your studies together during these late-night sessions, the more your dynamic had evolved beyond a simple student-mentor rapport. An undercurrent of flirtatious energy had begun simmering between you, acknowledged yet never overtly addressed.
Akaashi hummed, reaching over to snag the TV remote from the end table. "I happened to download a few of the films from that Ghibli retrospective you mentioned wanting to see..."
Your face lit up at the casual reminder of an offhand comment you'd made ages ago - pleasantly surprised that he had taken note.
"Seriously? God, you're the best study-buddy ever!" You immediately shifted onto the floor, cozying into the plush area rug as Akaashi cued up the first animated film.
He chuckled - a low rumbling rasp that did funny things to your equilibrium these days. "At the rate we're accruing all-nighters, calling me a 'study-buddy' is practically an insult to my scholarly dedication."
"Oh, I'm sorry - should I call you Keeeiii-jiiiii Sensei instead?" you quipped with a theatrical bat of your lashes.
His only response was an exaggerated roll of eyes as he settled in beside you, near enough for your shoulders to brush with each intake of breath. The movie flickered to life, casting the living room in bursts of jewel-toned light and shadow.
Though you tried valiantly to remain attentive and absorb the artistry of the acclaimed anime, you gradually became ensnared by heavy lidded drowsiness as the opening scenes played out. Something about the ambient patter of rain, the easy cadence of Akaashi's breathing beside you, it all lulled you into a deeply contented state far too cozy to resist.
At some point, you must have drifted off entirely because you startled back to awareness cradled in Akaashi's arms as he carried you down the hallway to your bedroom. You instinctively nuzzled against the solid plane of his chest, relishing the sandalwood cologne and clean linen scent enveloping you both.
Akaashi went very still for a suspended moment, the muscles in his arms tensing almost imperceptibly around you. His jaw worked briefly before he spoke in a hushed murmur pitched low enough not to disturb the night quiet.
"My apologies, I didn't mean to wake you," he rumbled, negotiating the last few steps into your bedroom with that same liquid grace he possessed. "You looked so peaceful, I wanted to get you somewhere more comfortable to sleep."
You peeled open one heavy-lidded eye, reflexively cataloging how the silvery moonlight gilded the elegant planes of his face, casting his stormy irises in softer grays. Even sleep-addled, you recognized the thrilling intimacy of being gathered against Akaashi's solidly muscular frame like a lover's embrace.
The staccato pounding of raindrops against the windows intensified into a deafening roar as the storm system raged outside. You shivered involuntarily, rubbing your hands along your arms despite being cocooned in one of Akaashi's worn university hoodies that smelled intoxicatingly of sandalwood and clove.
A massive crack of thunder boomed directly overhead, causing you to flinch violently. Unconsciously, you scooted infinitesimally closer to where Akaashi sat beside you on the floor - back against the couch as you pored over notes and textbooks strewn across the coffee table.
He paused, keen eyes flickering over to study your tense form briefly before returning his focus to the biochem flashcards you were meant to be reviewing. A few beats of weighted silence passed, punctuated only by the howling winds.
Then, with a blinding flash, every lamp and light fixture extinguished - plunging the apartment into absolute inky darkness.
You couldn't help the tiny whimper that scraped up your throat as you froze, pulse thundering wildly in your ears. From the void beside you came the rustle of movement, callused fingers tenderly circling your wrist.
"Hey...you're alright," Akaashi's deep timbre washed over you, resonant and reassuring even without being able to see his features. "Just a power outage from the storm. We have candles and battery lamps, don't worry."
You bobbed your head numbly, unconsciously leaning into the warmth and solidness of his presence beside you. Akaashi seemed to register the slight tremors rippling through you because he shifted nearer until your thighs were flush, cocooning you in his orbit.
"Give me a moment to find the emergency lights," he murmured, thick lashes brushing your knuckles fleetingly before he retreated.
You heaved a shuddering breath, internally willing your racing heart to slow. The pounding rain and occasional crackling bursts of thunder sounded more ominous in the yawning darkness, sending fresh prickles skittering down your spine.
Just when you felt on the precipice of panicking, Akaashi's low tenor carried over from behind the sectional.
"Got it."
Momentarily, a warm golden glow began emanating from the kitchen as he lit an array of utility candles and lanterns. He reappeared bearing several flickering flames and a fleece blanket tucked under his arm.
You shakily exhaled in profound relief at the sight of him - your safe harbor. Without preamble, Akaashi settled right beside you on the floor, draping the heavy fleece comforter over both of your laps before tucking you against his side.
"Better?" he murmured gently.
You could only nod, nuzzling deeper into the solid warmth of him while the flickering candle flames cast his striking features in dancing shadows and light. Akaashi maneuvered his long limbs until you were nestled into his embrace, his chin grazing the crown of your head.
Minutes ticked by, your thundering heartbeat gradually receding to a more sedate cadence in tandem with the rhythmic rise and fall of Akaashi's chest beneath your cheek. You allowed your eyes to drift shut, savoring the cocooning sanctuary of blankets, flickering candelabra, and his intoxicating spice-and-cedarwood cologne.
"This reminds me of being a kid and having sleepovers during thunderstorms," you mumbled groggily against his solid frame.
A rumbling chuckle reverberated beneath your palms where they rested over his heart.
"Is that so? I can't say I have many nostalgic memories of making pillow forts and telling ghost stories with friends."
You cracked open one eye to peer up at his striking silhouette, mouth tugging in a bemused smile. "No? I suppose actively seeking out haunted places for volleyball practice with Kou was more your style."
Akaashi snorted softly, letting the gentle teasing roll off him with fond exasperation. You drank in the way the muted candlelight played over the elegant slopes of his profile, heartbeat catching at the tenderness reflected in his storm-cloud irises. Quite abruptly, it struck you just how closely intertwined you were sprawled together.
Your nose was mere centimeters from grazing the stubbled hinge of his jaw as your gazes locked and held. A kaleidoscope of expressions flickered across Akaashi's face too quickly to decipher - tender longing, surprise, the quietest yearning. You felt simultaneously emboldened and paralyzed by the magnetism charging the scant breaths separating you.
His tongue swiped across his bottom lip instinctively and you were powerless to stop your own from mirroring the motion. That simple flick of movement brought your shared awareness crashing into riotous clarity.
"Y/N..." Akaashi's murmur vibrated over your swiftly warming skin like the rumble of oncoming thunder.
More words seemed to tether on the tip of his tongue, weighted and unspoken. Instead, he slowly inclined his face nearer - silently beseeching for permission with those piercing steel-grey irises. Your own eyes fluttered shut, tilting up to meet him halfway in quiet invitation.
The roar of the raging storm outside dimmed to a distant thrum as Akaashi closed the last hairsbreadth between your parted lips. His mouth slanted over yours in a slow, exploratory glide of searing heat. An electrical current jolted through you, catalyzing an invisible spark that ignited something molten and cataclysmic threatening to engulf you both in its fervor.
The gentle rasp of Akaashi's stubble feathering your cheek contrasted exquisitely with the velvet glide of his mouth moving in unhurried exploration across yours. You sank feverishly into the intimate glide, emboldened by his smoldering patience to tease the seam of his lips with a flick of your tongue.
He rewarded your ardor with a low rumbling exhale, immediately deepening the lush kiss and cradling your nape to tilt your head to a more devouring angle. The hand spanning your lower back scorched through the thin cotton barrier, urging you closer until you were sprawled fully across his powerful thighs.
A rush of trembling desire flooded your veins at the dominance of his hold, the tender way his other palm cradled your flushed cheek as if you were something precious to be cherished. You curled your fingers against the taut muscles sheathed by his t-shirt, absorbing the staggering heat radiating from him in waves.
Gradually, the leisurely sensuality of exchanging openmouthed kisses in the flickering candlelight evolved into something rawer, more heated. Akaashi's normally implacable control began shredding away as your tongue tangled with his in delirious cadence, exchanging breathy moans between slick slides of intimate friction.
His broad hands roamed in smoldering exploration - tracing the feminine dip of your waist, palming the flare of your hip in a commanding grip that sent your head spinning. When his calloused thumb traced the underside curve of your breast, you gasped into his mouth - entire body arching wantonly against the rigid line of his arousal.
The barest thread of sanity had you breaking away, reeling for oxygen in harsh pants against the glistening angle of Akaashi's jaw. His quicksilver gaze watched you through a lust-dazed haze, pulse fluttering wildly beneath his flushed skin where you cupped the column of his throat. Slowly, reverently, he turned to feather a trail of searing kisses along your quickening pulse point.
"Keiji..." you whimpered, fingers spasming against his chest when the velvet heat of his mouth found the juncture of your shoulder, teeth grazing tauntingly. "I can't...we should—ah!"
The needy whine sheared off as he sucked a blistering mark just below your clavicle, tongue flickering to soothe the hot sting of overstimulation. His knowing hum ricocheted straight to your molten core, heavy-lidded eyes lifting to pin you in place with fathomless yearning.
"We can stop whenever you wish," Akaashi rasped roughly against your damp skin, callused palms smoothing inescapable paths down your trembling body. "But I personally have no intention of going slowly after wanting this for so torturously long..."
You swallowed thickly, sanity careening precariously as his midnight timbre ghosted like sin over the swell of your breasts, lips mapping a scorching path lower with every inhalation. The last coherent thought filtering through ribboned into embers as Akaashi pressed you back onto the plush shag rug - moonlight and swaying candleflames framing his predatory form hovering above you.
"If I have my way, we won't be stopping until I've learned every exquisite sound you make," he whispered, nimble fingers already slipping beneath the hem of your borrowed hoodie. "Until you're utterly ruined for anyone else, only ever remembering how it feels to be loved by me."
A keening whimper rose unbidden in your throat, hips canting instinctively as his callused palms glided over the exposed expanse of your midriff. Akaashi's answering smirk was pure wickedness, the promise of a reckoning looming in his molten stare as his hands traveled further upwards.
"Let me show you how badly I've been craving you..." he murmured, palming your breasts in a kneading caress that left you gasping and arching wantonly. When his thumb grazed the pebbled peaks, you arched mindlessly into the delicious friction, eyes drifting shut with a low moan. Akaashi's rumbling chuckle rippled over your skin, then his scorching mouth was descending to follow his deft hands.
Your spine bowed when he took one nipple between his lips, rolling and tugging it until the pleasure was near-blinding. Akaashi's name tumbled from your lips in a fevered prayer, fingers scrabbling uselessly against his broad shoulders. His free hand grasped your hip in a firm hold, pinning you to the rug as his mouth continued its ruthless assault on the other pebbled bud.
You squirmed helplessly against the searing contact, panting for air as your blood boiled. All the while, Akaashi never faltered in his meticulous attentions - suckling and grazing his teeth until the ache coalesced into a desperate throbbing.
"Please..." you finally cried out, nails scoring his shirt with desperation.
Akaashi relented at last, raising his head with a wet pop to regard your wrecked state. His eyes flashed, mouth curving into a devastating smirk as he pressed a tender kiss to the center of your sternum.
"So pretty when you beg..."
Before you could even process his words, he was lowering his mouth between your trembling thighs - callused palms prying them wider apart. You keened at the first slick sweep of his tongue over your clothed core, fingers fisting desperately into the plush rug.
"F-fuck..."
The profanity spilled unbidden from your lips, incinerated by the white-hot sensation of Akaashi lapping greedily between your legs. His dark hair fell in silky disarray, obscuring his face where his nose nudged against your swollen bud. A growl rumbled up his throat as his tongue flattened against the soaked fabric.
"These need to go..." he mumbled, already reaching to slide your shorts and panties down your trembling legs. You barely had a moment to process his intent before his scorching mouth was descending upon the throbbing flesh, lapping and sucking until your entire body shuddered with need.
You writhed helplessly, head falling back onto the rug with a strangled cry. Akaashi's groan vibrated against your core, fingers digging into the backs of your thighs as he devoured you. His tongue swirled and plunged, driving you into a frenzy of pleasure so intense you felt your entire being shattering.
The world blurred and warped into a shimmering prism of sensation as he sucked mercilessly on your clit, the sharp scrape of his stubble against your inner thighs sending sparks ricocheting through your system. You keened, bucking helplessly against his merciless mouth.
"God, right there!"
Akaashi seemed to drink in the frenzied praise, doubling his efforts until your vision whitened at the edges. He growled possessively, nipping your swollen bud just as his fingers slid through the dripping mess to find your aching entrance.
One blunt digit plunged into your quivering core, then two. You were already clenching tightly around the welcome intrusion, riding the knife's edge of a bone-deep orgasm. Akaashi curled his fingers, seeking that elusive spot as his lips suctioned ruthlessly.
It only took a few expert strokes of his digits and the wicked swipe of his tongue before the world disintegrated. Your spine bowed violently, a scream tearing from your lungs as pleasure detonated along every nerve. Akaashi kept pumping, coaxing you through wave after wave of pulsing heat.
Gradually, you came back down to earth in a boneless puddle - heart racing and muscles trembling. Akaashi's dark hair was a complete wreck, cheeks flushed and eyes glassy as he watched you through thick lashes. The corner of his mouth lifted, lips glistening with the evidence of your pleasure.
"God, you're so fucking perfect," he murmured hoarsely, leaning down to drag a slow kiss across your trembling abdomen. You whimpered at the tender contact, fingers sliding into the silk of his locks.
When he pulled back, it was only to peel his shirt over his head - revealing the sculpted planes of his torso in all its glory. Akaashi's eyes flashed as he watched your appreciative stare drinking in the sight, his cock visibly twitching in his jeans.
He surged up to capture your lips in a dizzying kiss, tongue swirling against yours with a renewed fervor. You tasted the musk of yourself lingering on his mouth, the heady rush of sensation making you arch against his body.
Your hands roamed hungrily, mapping the dips and ridges of muscle along his back. When they drifted lower, he groaned low in his throat as you palmed the stiff line of his arousal through the denim. Akaashi's own hands were busy divesting you of your remaining clothing - shoving the hoodie up to expose the curves of your breasts again.
You squirmed, grinding against the rigid pressure as the tension rapidly spiraled towards unbearable. Akaashi's jaw tensed, a muscle feathering in his cheek as his nostrils flared. He broke the kiss to reach down and roughly free himself, hissing at the sensation.
Your lips parted on a silent gasp as you took in the sight of his cock. Even the first few inches jutting out above his fist looked painfully thick, a bead of precome welling at the tip.
Akaashi met your gaze, a flush staining his cheeks as you watched him stroke the swollen flesh. His stormy eyes were hooded, pupils blown wide and glimmering with restrained hunger.
"Is this what you want?" he rasped, voice fraying at the edges as his cockhead nudged the slick folds. You bit your lip, arching closer as he dragged his length along the slit - coating himself in your arousal. "You need to tell me if it's too much, okay?"
"Yes...please, Keiji..."
Your head fell back with a broken moan as he slid into your tight, fluttering entrance inch by inch. Akaashi's mouth fell open on a groan, hips stuttering when he finally bottomed out.
The delicious stretch of him filled you completely, every ridge and vein pulsing inside your walls. Your nails scored his back as you shifted restlessly, acclimating to the overwhelming sensation of fullness.
Akaashi exhaled shakily, nuzzling your neck as his palm skated down your stomach to find your throbbing clit. His hips began rocking gently, pulling out to the tip before sliding back into the welcoming clutch of your walls.
You clung to him, shuddering and moaning at the incredible friction. The air grew heavier, more charged with each deliberate glide - the wet sound of your coupling ringing obscenely. Akaashi's mouth was hot against your flushed skin, tongue sweeping out to taste the salt.
His hips gradually gained momentum, driving deeper until you were nearly delirious with pleasure. The room spun, every nerve singing. When he adjusted the angle to hit the sensitive spot deep inside, a breathless cry tore from your throat.
"God, right there, please don't stop!"
The command was punctuated with a roll of your own hips, seeking the delicious friction. Akaashi growled, teeth nipping your jaw as he drove into you harder - his thumb circling your clit faster.
Your second orgasm slammed into you with the force of a freight train. You screamed, eyes screwing shut as the blinding pleasure ricocheted through your veins. Your walls clamped around his shaft, milking him with a spasm.
With a guttural curse, Akaashi's hips stuttered and his cock pulsed violently. You felt the drag of him sliding out, then the hot splash of his cum coating your abdomen. Your eyes fluttered open, meeting his glassy, lust-addled stare.
He braced his weight on trembling arms, dipping his head to capture your lips in a deep, soul-stealing kiss. Your tongues tangled languidly, sharing breathless little gasps and moans. When he finally broke away, it was only to press a chaste kiss to the tip of your nose.
"You are so beautiful..."
His reverent murmur ghosted over your skin, making your chest clench. You carded your fingers through the silky locks, smoothing his hair back. Akaashi's eyelids drooped, savoring the contact before lifting them to reveal that same intense tenderness.
You could feel yourself getting lost in the stormy gray, drifting closer. His gaze was magnetic, drawing you in. Your breath hitched as he leaned in, pausing with his lips a hair's breadth from yours.
"Can we do that again?" he murmured, the ghost of a smirk playing about his mouth.
Your laughter pealed through the darkened room, bright and free. You felt lightheaded with elation, heart brimming.
"As often as you want," you promised, nipping playfully at his lower lip. "Although I hope there are some positions other than missionary..."
"I'll give you all my best ones," Akaashi rumbled, his expression turning positively sinful. "Over the couch, in the shower, bent over the kitchen table...every surface in this apartment..."
You hummed thoughtfully, running a teasing fingertip along the curve of his jaw. "What about the bed?"
His eyes sparkled, the corner of his mouth quirking. "Especially the bed."
You laughed, pulling him down for another kiss - the last rational thought to filter through ribboning into a whisper.
"It's a date, then."
The door rattled violently as a sudden pounding echoed through the apartment. You and Akaashi froze in naked surprise on the living room couch.
"BABY SIS! YOU IN THERE?! I'M SO SORRY I'M LATE!" Bokuto's frantic bellow reverberated down the hall, accompanied by more insistent knocking.
Your eyes widened in panic as Akaashi hurriedly grabbed a throw blanket, shielding your bare forms just as the front door burst open. Framed in the doorway stood Bokuto, drenched from head to toe and illuminated by the beam of a flashlight clutched in one hand.
"There you are! Are you okay?" His wild eyes swept the room before locking onto you huddled against Akaashi's equally undressed form on the sofa. "I knew how freaked out you get during big storms so I rushed over as soon as the--"
Bokuto's words sheared off abruptly as the realization visibly slammed into him. His owlish gaze bounced between you and Akaashi slack-jawed, the flashlight beam spinning dizzily. You shrank back, clutching the blanket modestly as a blistering blush consumed your face.
Akaashi, damn him, simply held Bokuto's shocked stare with infuriatingly placid nonchalance.
An eternity seemed to stretch in that crackling, awkward moment. Finally, Bokuto swallowed hard, adam's apple bobbing.
"I...I'll umm...I'll just..." He gestured vaguely over his shoulder before slowly pivoting on his heel.
Silently, with exaggerated care, Bokuto began shuffling backwards out of the apartment - gaze studiously averted and mouth still agape. When he reached the door he briefly met Akaashi's unflinching stare one last time before whirling around and bolting.
The door slammed with a rattling boom, leaving you and Akaashi alone once more amid the flickering candles in a weighty hush.
You chanced a sidelong glance at Akaashi, unable to bite back the somewhat hysterical giggle bubbling up.
"Well...I suppose there are worse ways for him to find out we're...you know..."
Akaashi merely hummed, mouth kicking up in a wry half-smile as he tugged you snugly against his chest once more.
"Indeed. Though I must admit, I've never seen Bokuto-san's typically energetic demeanor so effectively stunned into silence."
Laughing helplessly, you nuzzled into the sleep-warmed crook of his neck - delighting in the simple intimacy of being wrapped up with the man you adored after the mortifying interruption.
"Should we be expecting the shovel talk next time he comes barreling in?" you teased lightly.
"Undoubtedly," Akaashi rumbled, fingertips trailing patterns along the exposed expanse of your back that raised goosebumps. "Just another family bonding moment to look forward to."
You hummed contentedly, sinking deeper into his solid embrace as the rumbling storm outside at last began tapering off to distant echoes. A new dawn was cresting over the horizon, heralding uncharted beginnings filled with promise.
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thinking of a Mattheo Riddle who, to his utter dismay, is utterly and hopelessly a fool for you.
I mean, how could he not be? That smile, that god forsaken glint in your eye, the way you beckon him over with a single tilt of your head. You could destroy him and he’d gladly let you.
His friend argued you were destroying him. You’d wind him up relentlessley, sending him mad, but he’d come crawling back to you every single time. He had to be a sick sort of masochist, feeding off the constant push and pull. One evening you’re screaming at one another and the next your face is buried into the mattress, his hands tangled in your head as he fucks you slowly, with intent.
“Fuck- so fucking good. Perfect.” He grits out, his fingers digging into your hips with every harsh snap of his hips.
Wrong has never felt so right. So god damn right, he can’t help but come back to you even when you ruin him. He couldn’t escape you, even if he tried (not like he ever wanted to anyways). You lived in his mind constantly, for the better or the worse. The sounds of your pretty little moans scorched into his brain, the way you’d kiss him with equal anger and longing. He entertained the idea of being with another girl, but it simply didn’t work. There wasn’t that fire - the energy that courses through him the second he catches a whiff of your perfume or the sound of your voice.
No, no one could compare to you, and no one could compare to him. That’s why you always found yourself back in his room, Mattheo buried deep in you as he fucks you like he’d never be able to again. He fucking worshipped you, reverently, like he was a sinner and you were his only saving grace.
You did damage to him, but he loved it.
#slytherin#slytherin boys#tom riddle#harry potter#theodore nott#draco malfoy#lorenzo berkshire#slytherin boys fic#blaise zabini#pansy parkinson#mattheo riddle x reader#mattheo riddle smut#mattheo riddle#mattheo x you#i need this man so badly#mattheo x y/n#Spotify
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Can u do the chuuya and dazai version of the post you just posted plz :)
Hello! This request is referring to the "Love's Reassuring Embrace" one shot, just to add some context! It’s basically the characters comforting you when you feel unworthy of them. I hope you enjoy this small part two of it. \(OvO)/
⊹ ᮫࣭﹆ֹ ⊹ ᮫࣭﹆ֹ ⊹ ᮫࣭﹆ֹ ⊹ ᮫࣭﹆ֹ ⊹ ᮫࣭﹆ֹ ⊹ ᮫࣭﹆ֹ ⊹ ᮫࣭﹆ֹ ⊹ ᮫࣭﹆ֹ ⊹ ᮫࣭﹆ֹ
Love's Reassuring Embrace *+Part 2+*
Slight Angst —> Comfort
TW: Mentions of body dysmorphia, Self Doubt
Ft. Chuuya, Dazai || Part One
⊹ ᮫࣭﹆ֹ ⊹ ᮫࣭﹆ֹ ⊹ ᮫࣭﹆ֹ ⊹ ᮫࣭﹆ֹ ⊹ ᮫࣭﹆ֹ ⊹ ᮫࣭﹆ֹ ⊹ ᮫࣭﹆ֹ ⊹ ᮫࣭﹆ֹ ⊹ ᮫࣭﹆ֹ
Chuuya
Chuuya is a proud man who isn’t afraid to show off what’s his, that includes you- his lover.
From countless precious gifts to extravagant dates at 5 star restaurants, he makes sure to shower and pamper you with anything and everything his money can buy.
Countless people around Yokohama envied you, just think about it! You were an extraordinary individual that caught the eye and affections of one of the port mafia executives.
At first, you began to feel confident- proud even. People would praise your beauty and admire your sense of mannerism, some even seeing you as inspiration and strived to follow in your footsteps in hopes to one day reach your achievements.
Unfortunately for you, every good thing must come to an end.
“I seriously don’t get what executive Chuuya Nakahara sees in such a plain individual.”, the sneaky comment filled with bitterness found its way to your ear as you passed by two lower rank workers.
Your steps faltered and you quickly fixated your gaze at the individuals with the full intent to snap back. Yet your words were cut short as you saw almost everyone’s eyes on you, their gaze filled with judgement as they looked you up and down.
Their eyes trailed from your legs to the expensive promise ring decorating your neck.
All of a sudden your body felt warm, your face feeling hot and your palms becoming damp as your mind swirled with self conscious thoughts.
“What is it? Wait- what did they say? Do I have something on me? Plain looking? Nono they couldn’t have possibly- Is there something on my face, why are they staring like that?”
Just as your mind began to fabricate irrational scenarios a loud and stern voice rang through the main lobby.
“The hell is wrong with you all? Is this what I pay you scum for, to gawk at my lover? Get back to work.”, as soon as the crowd heard the familiar harsh voice they all dispersed and ran off, leaving you standing utterly in a trance.
A familiar touch snapped you out of your thoughts as you turned and were face to face with your boyfriend.
Chuuya saw your somber expression and raised an eyebrow, wondering what happened. “Well you look upset, the hell happened?”, his question remained unanswered as you avoided the topic.
He decided not to push it and hung his arm around your shoulders as he led you to his office.
As you two walked you couldn’t help but look at him and wonder woefully if what the lower rank workers said was true.
“Just look at him…he is a port mafia executive, one of the strongest ability users the world has ever seen. He is handsome, rich, confident, proud, and admired by all…maybe they were right, how could he be with someone so plain?”, your mind spiraled. Your once bright and confident smile was now reduced to a sad frown.
Chuuya took note of your quietness and found it rather unlike you. Usually, you would spend hours upon hours talking to him about any event that went on in your life. He always payed close attention and loved the sparkle that shined so brightly in your eyes as you talked about the most unimportant thing. Chuuya could care less if the topic of conversation was relevant or not, he just liked hearing your voice…a voice that now- was crucially missing from his day.
He stopped walking as he noticed you looking at your promise ring with a doubtful look. His brows furrowed and he immediately questioned you again, looking into your eyes with concern and sternness. “What exactly did those assholes say to you?”, his voice demanding.
You knew you couldn’t lie to him so you told him everything they said. Your hands fidgeted with the promise ring as your voice trembled.
He immediately cursed out and condemned them all to hell. He cupped your cheek and told you to not listen to the words of envious low lives.
His words were full of determination as he reassured you he loved you, every breath you took was like a drug to him. Your voice was beautiful, your eyes were unlike any others, and your delicate mind should not stump itself with the opinions of irrelevant people.
He gently kissed your lips and wrapped his gloved hands around you…quietly whispering praises against your skin.
You were his everything, you weren’t plain- you were extraordinary. If he could, he would choose you over and over again…
Dazai
Dazai, in short words, is very handsome- and he knows it.
He was trained from youth to easily sweet talk his way into getting anything he wanted.
And luckily for him…he managed to capture the most precious thing he wanted, your heart~
His love for you knows no bounds and he does everything to show it.
Late night talks, special dates, flirty texts, and constant “I love you” reminders.
You were sure of yourself, he worshipped the very ground you walked on. He was the most loyal and loving man you knew.
Yet who knew one simple comment would be enough to shatter the illusion…
“Oh to not be taken by such a lovely woman, pity” Dazai said dramatically towards a waitress, Clearly intending to tease and bring slight jealousy out of you…an innocent joke really.
Yet the only thing that sly comment brought out of you was insecurity. Your mind spiraled with questions and comparisons as your eyes drifted to the busy waitress.
Your eyes scanned her up and down, maybe he was right…she was lovely.
Days passed and all that filled your mind were negative criticisms of yourself and praises towards the waitress.
You began to recall any previous interactions your boyfriend had and blatantly blew them all out of proportion/context.
Afternoons were spent grabbing and pulling at your skin from your stomach to your back, hating any and every part you could grab as you felt nothing but flaws.
You began to subconsciously miss meals out of self loathing, hobbies were now shredded down to just hours upon hours of scrolling through social media as your mind grew dimmer.
Worst of all, anytime you looked at Dazai your heart ached, maybe he would be happier with someone worth his time and affection…
Dazai is a very observant and intelligent individual, so your frowns and quiet glances did not go unnoticed.
He observed your behavior and easily connected the dots…
Guilt and dread instantly filled his expression as you broke and confessed just how much of an impact that seemingly innocent comment had on you.
He held your hand and listened intently as you explained how you felt; the negative thoughts, the missing meals, and worst of all…the pure unworthiness you felt of his love.
Dazais words matched his eyes, full of sincerity and sadness as he apologized and reassured you he did not mean anything nefarious with that idiotic comment. His hands held onto your waist, gently soothing you as he spoke.
To him, your tears were earth shattering…how could he have so naively hurt his most precious jewel? His perfect love? His one and only…
⊹ ᮫࣭﹆ֹ ⊹ ᮫࣭﹆ֹ ⊹ ᮫࣭﹆ֹ ⊹ ᮫࣭﹆ֹ ⊹ ᮫࣭﹆ֹ ⊹ ᮫࣭﹆ֹ ⊹ ᮫࣭﹆ֹ ⊹ ᮫࣭﹆ֹ ⊹ ᮫࣭﹆ֹ
Hello! I’ve been gone for like- 3 months.
A THIRD OF A PREGNANCY?!
Anyways, Star is back and I PROMISE I will try to get back on track with my writing.
On a side note: I wrote a lot for Chuuya, I wanted to change up the headcannons a bit and make it a little more story based (I hope it was okay).
Either way, I hope you all enjoyed these headcannons? Love you all so much! <3
#bsd chuuya#chuuya x reader#bsd dazai#dazai x reader#bsd x reader#bsd fanfic#bsd angst#bsd comfort#bsd#anime
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Okay okay!!! I’m infected with baby fever and want to spread it on!
What if y/n had a little baby, and had to bring them to work. How would the boys react?
I have images of them preening the baby, picking at their clothes and getting downright aggressive if someone tries to take them away.
Like y/n and baby in a nest of pillows and blankets while the three birds boys hiss and spread out their tail feathers to intimated the poor workers just trying to check up on the mother and child.
That’s all from me! Have a fantastic day or night!!!
You sat there. All surrounded by piles of pillows a shed feathers. You were holding your precious little Joy. Your baby girl. She was giggling at the three ginormous peacock harpies as they cooed to her, their tails all spread wide. Their tails effectively made a wall preventing on seers to even catch a glimpse of you and your baby. And you couldn't see anything past them. The worst part about all this? They hadn't cornered you in their rooms. No, they had brought all the pillows from their private rooms all the way to the garden of the casino. Then they had picked you up and stuffed you and Joy into their makeshift nest. As you sat there annoyed, Sun suddenly grabbed your attention.
"Oh, please, can I hold her?? I'll be super gentle!! I promise!!"
He had his hands held out, ready to snatch up Joy at a moments notice. Sun, Moon and Eclipse had been begging you to hold your baby the whole time you had been put in the nest. Moon shoved Sun back.
"No!! Let me be the first to hold them! She wants more me anyway!!"
Eclipse pushed past Moon.
"Now, now, little boys! Let me hold her, I'm the most responsible after all."
You were sick of their badgering, you were a little worried. You wanted to let them hold her, but you were afraid that they would wrestle over her. Or wouldn't give her back. Reluctantly, you held her out to Eclipse. All three of the peacock harpies went utterly silent. The way Eclipse picked her up was probably the most adorable thing you've ever seen him do. He reached out so slowly, scared even the slightest touch could shatter Joy's small body into bits. Cupping his hands under her, he gently lifted her from your trembling hands. He pressed her to his chest and began to sway back and forth.
Moon and Sun looked equally jealous, but then they turned to you. Sun snuggled up in the nest on your right, Moon flanked you on your left.
"You must be exhausted from caring for Joy all the time! Let us care for you now!"
Both brothers wrapped you in their arms and started to massage you, tending to your shoulders and back. Your face had gone beet red in only a few seconds. The two harpies on your sides where whispering sweet nothings into your ears, and the one standing in front of you was cradling your baby in his massive arms. Everything was chaotic, yet peaceful somehow. You knew Joy was safe with Eclipse. You knew a three harpies would do anything to keep you and your baby safe. You had started to close your eyes, when one of the to brothers clinging to you stopped moving.
"Excuse me, I was just coming over to check on you and your baby."
You knew the voice was addressing you. You opened an eye to see one of your fellow staff members, a man, sheepishly grinning at the three towering harpies. Sun, Moon and Eclipse were giving him death stares, their feathers puffing up in aggression. Eclipse turned to him, looking down his nose at the poor guy.
"They're fine. Best get going."
Moon had let go of you and was already getting up. Sun was pressing you closer to himself, feathers bristling angrily.
"Sorry, but I was given instructions to ask them that."
He pointed to you. That was the wrong answer, apparently, as Moon growled and bounded towards him. The man yelped, turned tail, and ran for dear life. Moon chased him about, purposely keeping pace with the guy. His feathers were all ruffled, his tail folded back. You could tell he wasn't seriously going to hurt the dude, but you felt bad.
"Moonie, come back!"
Moon perked up immediately at your voice. He came to abrupt stop. He snarled one last time at the out of breath man, and strutted back over to you. He most be so proud of chasing off the "threat". He found his comfortable place next to you, his chin up with a smug little smile on his face. You giggled quietly. You looked at each of the three harpies. Eclipse was humming to the now asleep Joy he was carrying, Sun was tenderly clutching you close, and Moon was still so happy with himself. These little goobs. Such funny boys.
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This is probably completely wrong but I remember when I first saw Ozzies I thought Blitzø was mad for a different reason. When he watches the illusion of Stella and Octavia walk away from stolas and fizz put him in the chair. He grimaces at stolas as if he’s genuinely disgusted with him for betraying his family. This is a guy who desperately loves his own family and would die before betraying them, with fizz being a grim reminder of that. He says “we don’t get rid of family” right from the beginning. But Stolas doesn’t care about that. The best he gives Via is “I know it’s a lot”
Outside the car when stolas says “Octavia is away with her mother this weekend so we could (have sex)” it’s one of the triggers that pisses blitzø off. But maybe it was me projecting, because when stolas sounded genuinely happy that Octavia was away because she isn’t permanently living in her own home anymore, so he could be alone with Blitzø I wanted to punch him. It just reminded me of Via saying that it doesn’t feel like home anymore because he ruined it.
Idk I wish I could write Blitzø because him being so family oriented while stolas is so sex and work oriented would be such an interesting conflict. It’d be a much deeper layer to him being upset with stolas too, especially because at the end of that night he looks at his photo of him his mom and his sister and that breaks him. He’d say “well if my daughter had to leave our home every weekend I’d be too busy doing anything i could to win her back to cuddle with a hooker. So why don’t you just call your kid for a change instead of sending me your booty calls. See you next full moon, boss.”
Apparently they’re having stolas do that now, prioritise his family, but it’s taken a year, two mental breakdowns from his daughter, and a full on rejection by Blitzø for him to start it. The shot where Blitzø is tugging on stolas’ arm and stolas pulls away to clench his fist in determination, it looks so fucking goofy because the roles have been utterly reversed.
Holy shit...we talk a lot about ways that scene could have gone and "reason you suck" speeches Blitzo could give Stolas, but I think this one might be the most in-character yet.
I read it in his voice, actually clapped a little. God, if only.
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I'm always struck by how people seem to think that Gale wouldn't find a regular person (whether they could do magic or not) boring and incomparible to Mystra. I think it's precisely because they aren't extraordinary in the grand scheme of things that makes them extraordinary and wondrous to Gale, especially if they loved him. So here's a little fanfiction piece exploring that! Tis a wee bit smutty, so the more smutty stuff is under the cut!
Perfectly Imperfect
What could compare to the divine? To the goddess of magic herself who could conjure any thought or desire or fantasy and make it so real? Well Gale is pleased to find you can and it’s strangely the things that make you so mortal, so ordinary, that drives him mad with desire. It’s the smell of you, the richest of scents that could never be created so precisely, he’d know if it was wrong or just a little off. It was that intoxicating scent of a little sweat from a passionate rush to bed, the clean smell of water and bath salts or soap still lingering on your skin, and something so wholly you he cannot think of a way to describe it. Comfort? Sweetness? Home?
The smell of desire as his hand skimmed down your waist, teased you until you begged and pleaded with him to give you more, the warm rush against his fingers and the sweet tang when he placed them in his mouth or pressed his tongue against you and watched your back and hips arch off the bed.
It was how you looked, eyes fluttering close when he claimed you, mouth dropped open - a silent ‘o’ of bliss and pleasure - followed by a heady little gasp that he would seal with a kiss and he felt your eager hands grip tightly onto him. His back, his arms, his waist, as though you wanted to touch every inch of him and it was knowing that you couldn’t, even though you were desperate to do so, that sent a shiver of desire coursing through him. Somehow not having everything, of being restrained by mortal physicality, is the most delicious, beautiful, wondrous thing in the world. It’s a rare thing for him to not think of magic, but it’s too easy to forget it when he tumbled you into bed and you both spent hours seeking out each other’s pleasure.
It felt better this way, like he knew you more than he knew his own goddess all those years ago. A few months with you and he had figured out that spot behind your ear, on your neck, that made your knees weak and how easily it was to wrap an arm around your waist when they were, turning you to him so he could kiss you. How there was a spot on your belly that would make you laugh and push his hand away, because it was so sensitive and you would wriggle half way across the bed, before he had pulled you back, promising never to touch it again (maybe)! How there was a discoloured mark on one of your thighs, whether a birthmark or from a fight he hadn’t quite figured out, but how you loved having it kissed and he loved trailing kisses up your thigh, going higher and higher, closer and closer, until you outright demanded he stopped teasing you. And he did, always, even when he had intentions to do otherwise, because he couldn’t say no to you.
It sent his heart galloping away and made blood rush to his head and made it so that he couldn’t look away, whether you were lying in bed with him buried inside you, or reading a book in the library, or sipping tea out on his favourite balcony and admiring the view, the mortal with all their flyaway hairs, with a small stain on their shirt and a bit of dirt caught under nails was so utterly perfectly imperfect, how could Gale not love you?
#gale dekarios#gale smut#gale of waterdeep#bg3 gale#gale x tav#like it's the funny thing i don't think he cares if a person can do magic or is an all powerful sorcerer or whatever#he's just enthralled by someone who is good and kind and who loves him
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“Honey, have you been crying? What is it? What’s wrong?” buck x bucky?
Hello! Do you know you're my very first Anon ask in my inbox? Thrilled to have you!
Anyway, I had fun with this one. Please enjoy this wee Modern Gale/John, with echoes of a past life. I hope you like it, and thanks for being so patient with me :)
“You look just like my friend Buck from Manitowoc.”
The kitchen table was cold, but it barely registered against the chill those dreams left behind
God, John was so damn sick of those dreams. He was so sick of being paralysed by sleep and being force to watch the same reel he’d dreamed of time and time again flicker through his head.
He had no choice but to watch these two men meet over and over again; to watch a friendship roar to life through immediate unbounded affection and unfurling gestures of trust. He watched as smiles helped to alleviate the hardest days of basic training; as quiet moments together gave them a space to sort out their thoughts away from the rest of them; as spirited discussions led to better strategies, better leadership, and endless respect between these two men.
He watched as physical affection grounded the men when they needed it most: arms thrown over shoulders, hands squeezing thighs, gentle chucks to the chin.
“Don’t you die on me before I get over there.”
John had to watch something in Bucky change after that first combat flight.
“I got a nickname for you and it ain’t Buck!”
No. No one was Buck. Why couldn’t he just say that, though? John tried to yell at Bucky as he dreamed - tried to scream at him - just tell him!
“I don’t feel a thing.”
In these strange and awful dreams, John had to watch Bucky lose his men and go out of his way to get himself hurt because it was the only way he could let himself acknowledge the pain without crumbling to dust underneath it.
“We’re gonna get through this. Come on. Don’t you stop believing that.”
John had to watch Bucky package away all his fears, his frustrations, his doubts, and hide it all the way out of Buck’s sight. He’d believe enough for the two of them. He’d get them both out of there if it killed him.
“London. Let’s do it up. Paint the town red.”
“Maybe next time.”
John had to watch Bucky watch Buck dance away with Meatball - so utterly ridiculous and endearing and he feels the grief start to flare to life in his chest. Don’t go. Don’t you goddamn leave him again. Go up with him. Fly with him. Don’t let yourselves go alone!
“Did he have a good game?”
John had to watch Bucky lose Buck all over again, and saw the angry, violent grief wash over this man and drag him down, passed the man he used to be; down in the esteem of his men; and down into enemy territory and the horrors he had to feel and flee and flee again.
Until:
“Do any of you know if Buck made it?”
“John Egan! Your two o’clock!”
John finally got to see Bucky feel the smallest flash of incandescent joy as he realises Buck is alive and he might be able to keep his promise after all. But soon after, when time starts to pass in the Stalag, he has to watch Bucky spiral, and he sees Buck watching and trying to keep the men and himself together so they can keep Bucky together. But it’s like keeping water in a cracked vase. John had to watch Buck witness Bucky lose himself until he was so unrecognisable that he hurt Buck and Buck punched him -
And John had to watch that awful march in the cold and the dark, and see the terror both Buck and Bucky feel when the other stumbles or slows.
And then it’s the night in the village when Bucky sacrifice the only two things that kept him breathing - Buck and his freedom - without a second thought. So long as Buck got out. John had to watch Bucky throw himself at the German with the gun and knock the rifle away because he couldn’t risk a stray bullet.
“Go! Get out of here!”
And when John finally got to see Bucky and Buck reunite, all they get to share is a handshake, which they clutch to like a lifeline, and later a flask. Then he’s watching Buck and Bucky go their separate ways until Bucky is at Buck’s back as he gets married -
“John? You in here, baby?”
John returns to the present, and his eyes latch onto the sleepy posture, messy hair, and concerned gaze of his husband standing in the kitchen doorway. His Gale. Who pads over on bare feet and John feels the heat of his long, strong hands cupping his cheeks.
John always felt overwhelmed by his love whenever he looked at Gale, but tonight he burns with a love, a desperation, that feels more than his own; more than he could fit into one lifetime. And the edges of the dream still toe the boundaries of his consciousness.
“Honey, have you been crying? What is it? What’s wrong?”
John only feels the tears now, as they roll fat and slow down from the corners of his eyes. His nose stings and his throat feels thick.
He whispers brokenly, “Buck…”
Gale’s face crumples as he recognises the name. John only ever calls him that after those dreams. Those awful, heartbreaking dreams of Buck and Bucky, gifted the joy of knowing each other, loving each other, and torn apart time and time again.
Gale grabs handfuls of John and switches places, so he can sit down and gather and tuck John into his lap, until all of him is curled and curved and protected in his embrace.
Buck might not have been able to do this for Bucky, but Gale can do it for John. And be grateful for the privilege.
He places slow, heavy strokes down John’s side as he shakes.
After a time, he mumbles against Gale’s chest, “Do you think they ever got to be happy?”
See, John is convinced they were real, Buck and Bucky. Gale has even offered to look them up, see if he can find some kind of record in the archives. But something about getting that confirmation, seeing the faces of two men that John sees as echoes of them - it's too much. He doesn't want to know.
“I don’t know,” Gale answers truthfully. “But right here, now, we can be happy enough for both of ‘em.”
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Finally drew OG Wally art
I eventually wanna draw him accurately but I still struggle unfortunately
Changed a few things last minute on the finished piece cuz it didn't sit right .
I've had Dr Sunshine is dead stuck in my head all day and I went you know that song hits just right for Wally lmao. At least to me it gives the equivalent of The Tornado by Owl City. Just me?
I'll never not be able to get this man out of my head it seems. After drawing him every month since last year I wanted to give myself a break. Why? Why ? Why? Tbh I'm not sure , I adore his design and I love all the efforts Clown puts into Welcome Home. Tis why I've supported as much as I could. (And still do)
I don't really follow everything that happens in the fandom cuz I don't have the time to dwell on dramas that happen in every place it seems. I'm too old for that stuff.
This is as close as I'll ever get to drawing Wally lmao. I don't think I'll ever stop. And funny enough I've never really been a fanart kinda artist. But with all the beautiful AU's and dedications everyone put forth on this lil dude.
I also want to thank this lil dude in particular because he's helped me develop my painting style since day one of drawing him. You can see my development and new experiment ideas that didn't always turn out good. But I'm so damn proud of myself which is hard to say even for me. Why? Self doubt bears my arms despite spending countless hours on pieces that I try to make better the more I settle on it. He wears his heart on his feet and is a silly lil dude. But we know the cool aspect of Welcome Home is the spooky factor. I wanted to give it a try. I'm not quite sure what kind of artist I am because I want to do everything. Horror has always been my one thing I wanted to give a try. But I'm always scared it might be portrayed the wrong way. So maybe surrealism is the way to go? I dunno I'm ramblin
Anyway 🐦⬛💕 have a great weekend I have a con to get ready for. I'm utterly tired 😭
#digital art#digital painting#digital illustration#welcome home#wally darling#wally drawing#fanart#welcome home arg#welcome home fandom
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Since a previous anon brought it up as a comparison, i would love to read what you have to say about the whole "Snape would be infatuated with fem!Harry if she looked like Lily" take. Personally, I think he'd hardly be able to stand the sight of her
i detest this one whenever it does the rounds.
it always seems to hinge on the idea that it's "canon" that snape would be sexually violent towards a fem!harry who looked like lily - which annoys me because it's a complete misreading of snape's character in order to amp up how negatively the person accusing him wants him to be perceived which simultaneously manages to undermine this aim by suggesting that his actions in the book aren't bad enough, and so he has to become a creep at best and a rapist at worst so that everyone knows he's a properly horrible man...
so i think it's trite. and i also think it's just obviously wrong.
in the books, snape is clearly upset by any aspect of harry’s appearance or personality which reminds him of lily.
there are multiple instances in canon in which harry glares at him and snape quickly looks away, which we are clearly supposed to understand once we have the reveal of snape's motivations at the end of deathly hallows as happening because the sight of anger in lily eyes upsets and ashames him - especially because it stops him from soothing and deflecting his grief over lily-via-her-son by focusing on harry's resemblance to his father and pretending that he's like james alone.
harriet potter, if she walks into potions with long red hair and big green eyes, is getting totally, utterly ignored for seven years. nothing more, nothing less.
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mayprompts2024, #18 blanket
The Blanket Detective
John woke up from a terribly loud bang that seemed to have happened right in his head. He wondered drowsily what that might have been when another one happened. And another. And another. And then John realized that it had been his own teeth that were chattering so loudly.
Because he was cold.
John was freezing cold. His feet had turned into solid blocks of ice and his back felt like pressed into a corset, having gone stiff from the arctic temperatures that enveloped his body.
John, still half-asleep, pawed around to find the blanket that should have been covering his body to provide comfortable warmth and coziness but was obviously missing.
Fully awake now, John sat up in the kingsize bed he was sharing with Sherlock. Where was the blanket? Did it slide down when he turned in his sleep? Had he kicked it out while dreaming?
No and no. There was no blanket on the floor of the hotel room.
John looked at Sherlock who gently snored on the other side of the bed, tightly wrapped into a blanket. He resembled a giant burrito with a human filling.
John looked closer, suspecting that Sherlock might have hogged John’s blanket as well, but Sherlock only had one. Odd. When they had gone to sleep last night there had been two, one for each of them.
Anyway, John was freezing to death so he poked Sherlock into the back until he opened his eyes and asked, quite grumpily, “What?”
“My blanket is gone and I’m freezing. Do you have it?”
“Well, you stole mine two hours ago and I woke up freezing cold so I took yours.”
“What?” There was something utterly wrong with what Sherlock had said. “I didn’t steal anything. I woke up without the damn blanket.”
“Then you must have kicked the one you stole from me out of the bed because I woke up first being cold and therefore I took yours.” Sherlock explained petulantly.
“So, this is my blanket you’re wrapped in.”
“Yes. I needed one after you stole mine like I’ve already repeated.”
“But I didn’t steal yours!” John protested. “You stole mine as you’ve just confessed!”
Sherlock wriggled his arms out of the burrito and sat up, too. “Then why was mine missing when I woke up with chattering teeth? Before you did?”
They blinked at each other.
“Oh my God,” John exclaimed. “And you consider yourself a genius!”
“Insulting me will also not make me give back the blanket.”
John leant sideways, laying his chest over Sherlock’s legs to get a look onto the floor below Sherlock’s side of the bed.
“Ha! You are a mean blanket-thief! Just look at the evidence!”
Sherlock leant over to the side. On the floor lay the second blanket.
“I deduce,” John declaimed, “that you kicked out your blanket, woke up freezing and stole mine because you thought I had stolen yours first.”
“Oops.”
Sherlock pulled the blanket onto the bed and tossed it towards John.
“I’m not going to use it. It’s as cold as the floor and I don’t have any body heat left to warm it.” John’s teeth underlined this with an extra loud chattering.
“Okay, fine.” Sherlock grumbled and unwrapped himself. “We can share mine.”
“You mean we share mine.”
“Whatever, just come here John. The blanket is big enough for us both.”
They spent the rest of the night as a double burrito and enjoyed the heavenly warmth.
++++++++
tagging some people @calaisreno @totallysilvergirl @lisbeth-kk @peageetibbs @raina-at
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alright here we go, we're going to talk about raven for a bit, because there are some people saying strange, strange things about HER of all people.
(slight disclaimer: this is not an apple white hate post; she is also the loml and both her and raven are wonderful, nuanced characters)
i've seen a couple of people (before you ask, yes, it is those apple white defenders) talk about how utterly selfish raven was being. how she was completely uncooperative and unwilling towards apple, how rude she was, what a terrible friend and a terrible person she was in general she was to everyone (but especially apple gasp), and most of all, raven is completely and utterly selfish for refusing to see apple's viewpoint and for refusing to at least hear apple out.
LIKE IM SORRY?? DID WE WATCH THE SAME SHOW?? DID WE SEE THE SAME CHARACTERS??
AH YES, MY MISTAKE, RAVEN WAS COMPLETELY AND TOTALLY SELFISH FOR NOT WANTING TO FOLLOW IN HER VILLANOUS MOTHER'S FOOTSTEPS AND HARM THE PEOPLE SHE LOVES AND CARES ABOUT.
she's also definitely wrong and completely selfish to even consider wanting to have a happy, peaceful life for herself, instead of poisoning her best friend and ending up hated, alone and chained up like a monster.
my bad guys; i misunderstood the show, clearly it was raven who was the selfish one for not acquiescing to apple's request of poisoning her and ending up miserable for the rest of her life.
jokes aside, like, i don't even know how to explain how wrong this is. not only is it completely outlandish to make the argument that raven is wrong and selfish for wanting to NOT end up in magic jail, but it's so strange to demonize her in this particular way??
LIKE WOW WONDER WHY SHE WOULDN'T WANT THIS DESTINY.
raven's defining character trait throughout the show and the books and any other form of media she's associated with is her kindness, her gentleness, her willingness to do the right thing and how she sincerely just wants to help people, and completely loathes the fact that people see her as nothing more than evil and they see her as someone dangerous.
raven is shown to be someone who would literally rather die on the spot than hurt someone or willingly cause them pain, she has also continuously shown guilt over her mother's previous actions (particularly Wonderland); and another thing we're shown time and time again, is that although she disagrees with apple, she loves her so, so much and would do ANYTHING for her.
LET'S ALSO TALK ABOUT HOW RAVEN WAS CONSTANTLY EMOTIONALLY MANIPULATED THROUGH EAH BY LITERALLY EVERYONE??? LIKE THIS GIRL COULD NOT CATCH A BREAK, IF MADDIE WASN'T THERE SHE WOULD'VE SNAPPED SO FAST IM NOT EVEN KIDDING.
side tangent on this: woman spent her wishing well coin on asking if her friends would be fine if she didn't sign, PLEASE I LOVE HER.
like we had GRIMM of all people on her ass constantly threatening her with going 'poof' and ruining everyone's lives, and oh yes, he took the one thing she had from her mother and gave her that horrific wishing well vision, and then, she had ALLLL the royals telling her how horrible she was for not signing and dooming them all, and then we still have apple, who was constantly reminding her to sign and asking why she didn't and how she should've and whatever whatever; you get the point but STILL.
like i sincerely have trouble understanding why we're demonizing raven rn over wanting to choose her own happiness for once, over a lifetime of literal TORMENT AND SUFFERING.
and consistently throughout the show, we are also shown how apple is in the wrong; apple is a very nuanced character yes, and there's a lot of valid reasons that explain why she has the worldview that she does, and does the things that she does, but it doesn't take away the fact that apple is wrong, and throughout eah, we are shown apple realizing and then later accepting that she's wrong and raven's views and actions are valid and right.
i mean, we even get other characters who were diehard royals acknowledging raven's terrible situation and sympathizing with her; case in point, briar in thronecoming.
lastly, on the point of her not listening to apple or hearing her out, girl, like i love apple sm; but her entire point throughout the earlier seasons was 'oh raven why won't you poison me so you can go to prison and i can get my happily ever after like we're supposed to?'; like apple is also shown to be entirely unreasonable in the earlier seasons to raven being like 'haha hey, this is kind of fucked up, don't you think??' and again, apple has valid reasons for this, but it doesn't take away the fact that she was wrong and that there is really no reason for raven to be demonized over THIS of all things???
tl;dr: raven queen is a wonderful character; apple white would beat your ass if you're talking shit about her (like not in being like "oh i don't like this character" way, in this particular clown way), and demonizing raven for being 'selfish' is WILDDD.
#long post#shitpost#not really but#everything i post turns into one so#ever after high#eah#sorry for this monstrosity but like im just pissed#raven queen#apple white#i am a raven queen defender THROUGH AND THROUGH#raven queen did nothing wrong#raven queen the loml the woman that you are#alright all things aside#these arguments are INSANE#i thought ppl were joking#but i actually have seen people accusing raven of being selfish and a terrible friend#like bitch goodbye
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This week I have mostly been reading...
May 13-19th, 2024
New idea I've had, and hopefully something I'll have time to do once a week on a Sunday.
Over the past seven days, I have devoured the following Good Omens fanfics, and I recommend these most heartily to you:
Completed works I've read this week:
Boyfriend Debut by snae_b
Rated E - A & C are both porn actors. It sounds seedy. It's not. Holy Hell, it's not. It's one of the hottest things I've ever read, but also so, so sweet and delightful.
They Drink Tea At The End by @knifeforkspooncup
Rated T - After a year spent in Heaven, A returns to C in the bookshop completely and utterly overstimulated in every sensory capacity. A wonderful, sweet story of them truly knowing each other and an excellent example of how the fandom relates to GO in so many beautiful ways.
Pay Per View by IneffableToreshi
Rated E - A lovely story set in Canada, full of our so frequently seen miscommunication between A & C. And, as the author says: "Also, why the fuck is Aziraphale watching porn in their hotel room?! And taking notes?!"
Cranking Up The Heat by @vavoom-sorted-art
Rated E - Well, the title says it all, really. And the fic's description: "The equivalent of that hot wings challenge, but with porn." Don't really want to say much more, as you've gotta see it to enjoy it.
On The Same Page by Chekhov
Rated E - A fake marriage fic with Only One Bed. A & C are both authors, but two very different ones. Excellently written with very vividly described mental struggles with internal homophobia & self loathing.
A Model Guardian by Fuuma_san
Rated E - As a former model, I found this fic really interesting. I'd genuinely love to know what the author's tie/experience in the industry is. C is a model, A is their bodyguard. An interesting tale which involves some great discussion on gender.
In The Room Where You Sleep by @mrghostrat
Rated E - Another banger by ghostrat, posted in its entirety this week. In a reversal to many other fics I've seen, A is a vampire and C is a vampire hunter. *Homer Simpson voice* With sexy results. ;)
WIPs which have updated this week (which I devour as soon as I get the update!)
There Is A Light And It Never Goes Out by @phoen1xr0se
Rated M - A is a researcher (puffins!), C is a lighthouse keeper on the island where A has run away to to escape his problems and do his research. The author has recently spent a week studying puffins - which is the ultimate dedication, if you ask me. Ch 9/26 posted this week
Find The Light by @klikandtuna
Rated E - Headmaster A and Rockstar C. The story teases out a fraught history between them whilst keeping a tension between them in the modern day. Ch 4/? posted this week.
Terminus by @emotional-support-demon-crowley
Rated T - Astronaut A is guided back to Earth by controller C after 92 years in space. There are many difficulties both of them have to face and they develop an amazing rapport. Ch 15/17 posted this week.
Oddity by @tsyvia48
Rated E - Actor C is contracted by (useless) Gabriel to guest curate an exhibition at the museum where A works. After getting off on the wrong foot, can they work together to pull off this show? Ch 22/24 posted this week.
Under The Summer Stars by @pannotbread
Rated E - This wonderful fic has taught me more about physics than school ever did (mostly because I never did any physics, but...well). A & C have to share their time at an observatory because there is Only One Telescope. Not only will you learn about astrophysics, astrobiology, and astroecology, you'll also read some of the most poetically, beautifully written masturbation scenes I've ever seen. *ahem* Ch 6/13 posted this week.
Free by well, me: imposterssyndrome
Rated E - A & C meet (again?) in an acute mental health ward after both having had mental health crises. A runs a bookshop but is very much under his parents' control. C has been homeless since childhood and has struggled his entire life. They do not trust each other when they first meet, but feel strangely drawn to one another all the same. Where will this lead them? This is a passion piece for me. There is a lot of lived experience in it, and extensive research from both professionals and peers. It has been a real journey for me to write it, and as I'm coming closer to the end it's becoming very emotional for me. Ch 43/? posted this week
#fics i read this week#good omens fanfiction#fanfic update#fanfic rec#fanfiction#imposterssyndrome#good omens fanfic rec
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the thing that surprised me in syzygy was mulder eventually deciding he didn't want to sleep with detective white. at the beginning of the episode i definitely thought they were going to hook up given how flirtatious he was being toward her. it seemed like he wanted to get in her pants at first (soooo unprofessional but isnt he always) but then didn't want to anymore bc he was too torn up over how he and scully weren't getting along. i could see his initial flirting with white as him trying to escape that tension between him and scully, only of course it just made everything worse.
it's notable that this is the first time mulder is trying to hook up with someone while scully is right there. the past 2 instances happened when she was away, and i think she feels extra offended (and "humiliated" as she says) that he's doing it while she's right there. i think she even feels rejected and like she's being made to feel like she's not good enough. mulder's comments to white about scully's skepticism are so hurtful in part because they're creating an "us vs them" where the "us" is mulder and white and the "them" is scully, when usually the "us" is mulder and scully and the "them" is the rest of the world. it's not just the betrayal of this that hurts scully, it's that it's in service of mulder trying to seduce some other woman. such a petty reason for him to turn on her in that way.
i've seen fans discuss the mulder/white motel room scene as white sexually assaulting mulder, and they're not wrong, but i think it's also more complicated than that - she's definitely assaulting him in a way that's totally inappropriate, but i don't think mulder really fully gets that a woman pressuring him into sex that way is not okay, particularly when it's a beautiful woman who he's flirted with and has wanted to have sex with. the same thing happens with phoebe in season 1. (scully's absolute disinterest in exploiting mulder sexually makes a beautiful contrast to that i think. you can just feel that she would never do this, and wants to protect him from people who would.) i got the sense that mulder was protesting so hard against white's advances because there was a part of him that did want to have sex with her, but he's so conflicted and upset and guilty that he knows he would regret it, so he's trying not to let her convince him to hook up. because he feels like he COULD be convinced. still absolutely not okay on white's part - the script tries to blame it on the syzygy but that feels weak to me.
i found darren mooney's review of this episode very illuminating - he posits that it's chris carter's attempt to do a darin morgan-style comedy episode. i hadn't thought of this episode as comedic at all while watching it, but after i read that i could see where the episode was intended to be a comedy and particularly how the sexual aspects were meant to come across as funny and raunchy. like, mulder spending the whole episode trying to get with this woman only to decide he doesn't want her just as she's throwing herself at him - the situation is very screwball comedy, only when you're watching it it's not actually funny at all. i think a lot of the directing choices fight against that lighthearted comedic impulse, giving the mulder/scully conflict more weight, and i think the episode is stronger for it. it's still funny, but in a grim way. like a cocktail party where everyone's talking shit about each other and feelings are getting hurt but you can't tear your eyes away from the mess. as a comedy story i think it fails utterly but as a drama i find it compelling.
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Everybody sit down and strap in, 'cause I have a doozy of a tale to share.
I've had anxiety for literally as long as I can remember. I've had periods of my life where it was so intense it became legitimately life-threatening (don't worry I promise this is going somewhere funny). And this was really bizarre because I have zero childhood trauma. Like, my family life is so idyllic it's almost comical. Therapists would do abuse screenings on me and look utterly baffled when I told them everything was fine at home. They'd interrogate my parents just to make sure I wasn't lying. I have one friend who I'm fairly sure believed I was just severely gaslighting myself when I said my family was great, school wasn't too stressful, and I've never lived in a dangerous neighborhood or experienced poverty.
Anyways, despite no one being able to figure out where my disorder was coming from, my doctors were able to help me manage the symptoms so that I would like, not die, and actually be able to finish high school. Which was awesome. Now fast forward to late 2021. My big sister (who has also had intense anxiety her whole life which no one could figure out why) is finishing up her doctorate and getting her physical therapist's license. Somehow, during all her studying and schooling, she finds out about this thing called Ehlers Danlos Syndrome, which explains literally everything that was going on with us. EDS is a connective tissue disorder that kinda fudges up your body in a whole bunch of little ways, including dysautonomia (episodes of very fast heart-rate that kick your body into fight-or-flight mode), and hypermobility (unusual flexibility). It's a spectrum disorder, so the severity of symptoms vary from person to person, but we definitely checked almost every box on the diagnostic list. My sister went to see a specialist, and yep, she was diagnosed EDS positive. She immediately calls my mom and goes "I know what's wrong with Niki" (thanks, sis, that's real encouraging lol). Initially we're like "okay Katie, that's nice" because honestly this kind of sounds like jumping at shadows, but I go in to see the specialist anyways just to make sure.
One consultation and diagnosis later, and suddenly my entire life makes perfect sense.
Now we get to the funny part. See, the diagnosis stuff happened in early 2022. So by the time late 2023 comes around and we're looking for a new dog (I promise this is relevant), we've been riding that chronic illness diagnosis for a while. Once again, my sister, ever the proactive one, decides she's going to help us get a new dog. She scours the adoption website, sends us photos of the cutest dogs available, and helps us make a decision. This is how we got Beverly, who has been an unstoppable force of chaos in our lives ever since we signed the papers (but she's also really cute so she can get away with it). Now on top of being a very excitable and anxious pupper, Beverly's got a weird little gimp in her hindquarters, which makes her sit all splayed-out and funny-looking, and while it doesn't seem to be causing her pain, we take her to a vet to get it checked out. Vet finds absolutely nothing. X-rays are taken and examined. Still nothing. At this point, they go "well, we could try a CT scan of her brain, which would run about $5,000, and maybe we could find something--" but my parents are already packing this dog into the car like "well that is a HARD nope." So we decide, look, Beverly seems happy and healthy, and those gimpy legs don't seem to bother her, so we'll just leave it be until it becomes clearer what's wrong with her because we do NOT have a cool $5,000 to throw around here.
Readers more astute than my family and I will likely have already figured out where this is going.
This morning, my mom is looking at Beverly sitting in her funny sprawled-out way, and something in her brain goes "wait...weird physical symptoms with no tracible cause that vets can see..." She does a bit of googling. Can dogs have EDS/Hypermobility? Yes. Yes they can. And the listed symptoms describe Beverly to a T.
So not only is my sister the one to finally figure out what's wrong with me, she also unknowingly got us a dog who has the exact same chronic condition as us. Meanwhile my poor dad, who is the only Normal Person in our house, is coming to terms with the fact that he is apparently just fated to always love chronically ill people and animals, and there's absolutely nothing he can do about it.
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